


Helping Hands

by All_Phlochte_All_The_Time



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Phlochte_All_The_Time/pseuds/All_Phlochte_All_The_Time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel helping Dean; Dean helping Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tea

Cas had been living at the bunker for a few weeks, he and Dean falling into a comfortable routine. Sam didn’t comment on their newfound relationship; Dean didn’t bring it up. It was just another facet of life in the bunker: Dean and Cas together.

Cas had become quite fond of tea since he’d become human. He’d tried all sorts of teas: black, herbal, green, white, oolong. Depending on the tea, Cas sometimes put milk or honey in his tea, sometimes some lemon.

Dean had been out on a hunt. He still didn’t think Cas was ready to come along, so Cas had to sit at the bunker, worrying. Dean would text and call Cas, checking up on him every so often, especially if the hunt lasted longer than a few days.

When Dean came home, there was blood all over his shirt. He was tired and sore, cuts all over him.

Cas padded quietly over to him and handed him a mug.

“What the hell is this?”

“Herbal tea, Dean. You’re supposed to drink it,” Cas said softly, pressing the mug into Dean’s hands. Dean rolled his eyes.

“This is stupid I don’t believe in fuckin’ herbal soothers.”

Cas slowly took the mug back, the hurt evident in his blue eyes. Dean saw that glimmer of sadness among crystal blue and felt terrible. He rolled his eyes again and sighed loudly.

“Fine, just give me the fucking tea but I’m not doing any yoga shit with you.”

Cas put the tea down on the table before stripping Dean of his bloodied shirt. He passed the mug back to Dean with a small smile.

Dean took a sip and he was surprised, as he really liked the tea. He didn’t say anything, though. He just drank it while Cas washed his shirt.

By the time Cas came back, Dean had finished the entire pot of tea.


	2. Dishes

Cas was standing at the sink, staring down at the dishes in confusion. They had just finished dinner and it was apparently his “turn to do the dishes.” Dean and Sam had gone off to watch some TV, and Castiel was left alone with a looming pile of dirty dishes.

Dean came back into the kitchen about fifteen minutes later to check on Cas, unable to help the laughter that bubbled up when he saw the raven haired man still standing at the skin.

“Cas, what’re you doing?” The look that Cas gave Dean when he turned around wiped the smile right off of the hunter’s lips. 

“I...Dean, I don’t know how.” Cas’ voice was pained and saddened, his eyes wide and teary as he looked at Dean.

Dean walked over to Cas, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning on the hot water.

“It’s okay, Cas. Here, I’ll show you.”

He showed Cas how to scrub the plates with the soapy sponge and properly rinse them. Soon, they were in a steady rhythm of washing and drying, Dean humming as they worked. They put the dishes away together and Cas let out a heavy sigh when they were done. 

Dean smiled at his tired angel, yes, angel, for even though Cas was robbed of his Grace, he was always an angel to Dean.

“I don’t think I like washing dishes,” Cas decided, looking down at his hands. 

“Just wait until I show you how to vacuum.” 

Cas gave Dean a confused look and the hunter merely laughed, pulling Cas into a warm embrace.


	3. Coffee

Dean doesn’t like waking up in the mornings. Now that they’re settled in at the bunker, Dean likes to sleep in, tangled up and warm in the sheets.

Cas cooks breakfast in the mornings. Sam is usually out running, Dean still asleep, the bunker quiet. He usually makes eggs and bacon, sometimes pancakes for Dean. And there’s always a pot of coffee ready.

Cas was humming softly as he cooked, stance relaxed and limbs loose as he stands by the stove making the eggs.

Dean came into the kitchen and slumped over Cas, winding his arms around Cas and sleepily kissing his neck.

“‘Morning, sunshine,” Cas teased softly, poking Dean in the side. Dean grumbled, his eyes droopy as he rested his chin on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas kissed Dean’s forehead with a smile. He poured Dean a cup of coffee in his favorite mug, nudging him a bit.

“You have your coffee. Now go sit at the table so I can finish making our damn eggs.”


End file.
